


A night in Cairo

by Hittosama



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual Kink, M/M, Soft BDSM, old men being kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 13:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hittosama/pseuds/Hittosama
Summary: Tonight is the night, as they say. The target is in Cairo, and it's time for Reaper to act.





	A night in Cairo

**Author's Note:**

> It's @kryptonitanott's fault.  
> Also, I'm very new to the Overwatch fandom, and I'm not sure I'll write more. I needed to get that out of my head, is all.

All went according to plan. Infiltrating the safehouse was a piece of cake, subduing the target a child’s play. Reaper wouldn’t have minded a little more trouble though. He didn’t like it when it was too easy, made him feel like the target wasn’t even trying.

He kept the lights to a minimum, because working in the shadows was much more effective, and because he had seen all the closet-like safehouses in the world in his young years. A camp bed, a table, a chair, packs of ration food, bottled water, a duffle bag, dust and black mold in the air. One thing he had to give to Talon: they knew how to accommodate their agents. No wonder when most of the recruits were high maintenance dramaqueens – him included.

The target was on his knees in front of Reaper, hands bound in his back, wearing a grayish tank top stained with sweat and heavy pants, the kind woven with reinforced thread, military-style. A lot of skin was showing, lot of scars too. Some were new, fresh even, but the one crossing his face was an old acquaintance. It gave him character, Reaper thought, something Morrison had lacked in his young years. The now white hair had receded high on his forehead, and it went well with his blue eyes. Reaper had always found the american obsession for blonds with blue eyes hero type ludicrous – white people, urh.

“Get on with it,” the target barked.

Reaper snorted.

“Such impatience, Soldier:76,” he mocked. “Why the hurry? We have all the time in the world.”

Morrison grunted and lowered his head a bit, keeping his eyes on Reaper. That gave him a shiver of anticipation, he had to admit.

Reaper dragged the shitty chair, turned it and sat on it to face Morrison, resting his arms on the back. He studied his target a little longer, seeing him shift his weight a bit on his heels to spare his knees, straighten his back and push his shoulders back to not slump. Age had taken his toll on him. That, and over thirty years of war in one form or another. The days Reaper felt like shit, the days he resented his past choices and hated everyone who had had the slightest role in his fall, those days he remembered he hadn’t been the only one fucked up by Overwatch and all that shit. Morrison had had his share too. A different kind, the kind that grinds you little bit by little bit until you crumble, too frail to support your own weight, fall to the ground and beg for mercy (not that Mercy). It comforted him. Misery loved company.

“So,” Reaper eventually said, his voice deformed by his mask, “playing the vigilante, Morrison? How is it going?”

“Good,” he replied.

That made Reaper smile, genuinely amused.

“Beating up scumbags ain’t your style. What happened to the starry eyed golden boy?”

“He died,” Morrison said with a shrug that made the muscles in his shoulders roll. He was still shredded under that tank top and all that chest hair. It wasn’t really surprising considering what he had been through, but Reaper had always pictured Morrison with a beer belly at that age – he had seen photos of Morrison senior, and seen how much alcohol Junior had burned to function.

“Death does that,” Reaper agreed. “What’cha doing in Cairo? Always been too hot for you, dream boy.”

“I’m not against a good sweat once in a while.”

It was hard not to chuckle. Damn it Morrison, Reaper thought, try not to take your inspiration from a bad porno.

“I know Overwatch is back,” Reaper said, striking a nerve to keep it going. “I’m thinking, you’re here to meet a friend.”

Soldier:76 lost his grin. “Don’t you dare,” he warned.

“Dare what, Morrison? Mix pleasure and business?”

“You asshole,” he spat. “You...”

“Don’t take me for an idiot, Jackie-boy,” Reaper interrupted, leaning forward until all Morrison could see was his mask and the dying light in his eyes. “I know you’re not here for pleasure only, so spare me the hypocrisy.”

“Don’t fucking go after them,” Morrison warned, anger poking in his low voice. Okay, too much. Reaper had to back down a notch.

“I wouldn’t pay you a marital visit if that was the case, Hun.”

Soldier:76 stared right back at him, and Reaper could see the gears turn in his formerly blond head. Was he serious? Had he dispatched other Talon agents? Or was he playing with his nerves, to add a little _je ne sais quoi_ to their _tête-à-tête_? God, he spent too much time with that crazy ass bitch assassin.

Soldier:76 did something Reaper didn’t anticipate: he headbutted him hard enough to make him recoil. Reaper accentuated the movement, leaning back, feet in the air, gripping the back of the chair to keep a semblance of balance, and laughed, a good, genuine belly laugh that shook him for a moment.

“Goddammit, Reyes,” Jack eventually growled, his voice more amused than angry, “keep it together.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel answered, catching his breath, a hand on his empty chest. “I’m trying, I swear!”

“Are you though? ‘cause I’m not even hard here, for fuck’ sake!”

“Alright, alright,” Gabriel chuckled. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

He got up and pushed the chair out of the way. He then removed his heavy coat, letting it fall to the ground with a distinct ‘thump’, followed by his gloves, harness and belts. He hesitated for a second when it came to his mask, but the game was pretty much over anyway and left it with the rest. Jack’s eyes were on him immediately. It had been a few months since they had seen each other face to face after all. That wasn’t really a look of passion though, more like worries. Jack was checking his condition.

“Yep, still there,” Gabriel replied, waving it off. That got a bitter bark out of Jack. “Shall we?”

“Been waiting for it all evening, asshole.”

“So eager,” Gabriel mocked, unzipping his fly. Jack started to get up but Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back to a kneeling position. “No no no. On your knees. Beg for it.”

Jack rolled his eyes before getting in a more comfortable position for his poor old joints, arms still bound in his back. He then looked at Gabriel straight in the eyes and opened his mouth, tongue probing out. Good enough. He knew it was practically impossible to get Strike Commander Jack Morrison to beg anyway.

Gabriel reached into his pants to release his semi-hard cock. If Jack was disappointed by the lack of excitement, it didn’t show, and Gabriel was thankful for that. He had been well over 40 when Moira had started messing with him after all. Jack couldn’t expect him to be rock hard at attention whenever his pants fell off like the day they met.

As Jack refused to move first, Gabriel took the matter at hand and came closer. He caressed Jack’s jaw, feeling the hint of stubble here and there, then cupped his chin in one hand, the other on the back of Jack’s head, and guided him to his cock. Jack complied with a groan and finally, finally Gabriel felt that little spark in his lower abdomen, as Jack’s warm, wet mouth took him whole. Jack stayed immobile for a second, his breath tickling Gabriel’s pubis, then moved slowly back, lips tight around Gabriel’s cock, sucking all the way up to the tip. He kept it in his mouth and started playing with it with his tongue. Gabriel felt a rush of heat and his cock getting harder as Jack worked it. He closed his eyes, his head slowly lolling back, as he focused on that tongue poking and licking around. His hands loosen their grip as Jack started sucking hard again, engulfing his cock all at once, hitting the back of his throat now that Gabriel was fully erected, working it up and down faster and faster. A groan that sounded somewhat like his surname reminded Gabriel of his duty, and he grabbed Jack’s short hair, putting pressure back on his head. Jack moaned loudly, the sound resonating through Gabriel who took it as an encouragement. His grip tightened a bit and he started moving his hips ever so slightly, just enough to disturb the rhythm Jack was falling into. Fuck that was good. The heat, the pressure, all the little wet noises and Jack’s eagerness were all fucking good. He was close, and very tempted to just let it go, ride the wave of pleasure he could feel rising, but he wasn’t exactly young anymore and Jack would sulk for months if he didn’t get off too tonight. Gabriel yanked his dick out of Jack’s mouth with a groan, eyes still closed for a moment, trying to calm down a little. Jack’s breath was short and heavy, and when Gabriel opened his eyes, he saw the sloppy strings of saliva falling from Jack’s mouth, his lips redder than usual, his blue eyes unfocused. God he loved this man. Gabriel bent down and kissed Jack, their first kiss in weeks, months, an eternity even. It felt like the first time they had kissed, a hurried thing in the locker room after training, burning like a million suns and petrifying, guts wrenching. What if they were caught? Fraternization was forbidden in the SEP. They’d get expelled from the program, and Gabriel couldn’t, wouldn’t put up with that. He had gone through too much to lose it all now. And with another guy? No problem for Gabriel, but Indiana Boy had freaked out at that idea, and to this day didn’t like much kissing as a result. Fucking was fine, but kissing was a rare thing, something always tainted with shame and fear and lust.

Gabriel pushed back, knowing fully he had crossed the line, and mumbled a “sorry” as he took a step back.

“’s okay,” Jack managed to say between two breaths. “Safehouse. Can’t see, can’t hear.”

Gabriel glanced quickly at his equipment on the floor. It was probably okay. The little fun he and Jack secretly shared had been going on for about a year and a half now, since Soldier:76 had been an interest of Talon (seriously, Reaper had known who that vigilante was the second he had read the name, he swears to God). The little brat probably knew, she claimed to know everyone’s dirty little secrets, but so far she had kept her mouth shut, and she hadn’t tried to blackmail him – yet. That had to count for something. Besides, if Ogundimu had known, all of Talon would be on Gabriel’s ass already. The big guy didn’t take betrayal very well.

He’d tell Jack to move to another location after, just in case.

“Help me up, would ya?” Jack eventually said.

Gabriel complied, hearing a joint or two protest in the process. Jack did something Gabriel did not anticipate again: he leaned in closer and kissed Gabriel. It took a second for him to reciprocate the gesture, too surprised at first, but he eventually relaxed and enjoyed it very much, Jack’s body heavy and warm against his. God that was good. Extra good even, as Jack had started it, had wanted it. Gabriel slid a hand on Jack’s side and another behind his head as the kiss intensified. He resented to wear his body armor, but he didn’t want Jack to notice his lack of heartbeat either. Keep him busy then. He lowered his left hand to grab Jack’s ass and squeezed. Gabriel was rewarded by a moan and a pelvic thrust. Even through the heavy fabric of the military pants, Gabriel could feel Jack’s cock. He was well turned on.

“You clean?” Jack managed to ask between a kiss and a breath. He then started kissing Gabriel’s neck, in that particular spot that rendered him all mushy and impotent.

“Checked two weeks ago,” Gabriel replied, sliding a second hand to Jack’s muscular ass and gripping it firmly as a distraction. God he had a great ass for a white boy. “All green.” Good thing Moira kept checking him left and right every month or so (“for science!”), otherwise he didn’t know how he’d regularly ask for blood analysis. The old hag wouldn’t raise an eyebrow, but she’d ask questions about his sexual life and Reaper had a reputation to maintain. “You?”

“Ain’t got many opportunities to fuck in my line of work,” Jack said, searching for friction with his hips.

“That’s not an answer,” Gabriel groaned.

“No problem,” Jack grunted. “Paper’s in my bag if you wanna check.”

“’s good, I trust you.”

Jack moved his arms to the side, still attached in his back. “Wanna do something about that?”

“Nope,” Gabriel replied, popping the p. “Love it.” He grabbed Jack’s wrists and, in a swift movement, turned and pushed him chest first on the small table in the middle of plans and ration wrappers. Both Jack and the table protested. Gabriel maintained a tight grip on Jack’s wrists while he caressed his ass over the pants. He slid his free hand to the front to unbutton it and get it out of the way. Of course Jack was going commando. That made Gabriel chuckle. A second look made him laugh.

“A butt plug?” he asked, a shit eating grin on his face as he pushed the round metallic protrusion a little.

“I like being prepared!” Jack protested. Gabriel couldn’t see his face but Jack’s neck and ears were all kinds of red.

“Hey, ‘s all good, Jackie-boy,” Gabriel cooed, caressing his lower back. “I’d rather play with your butt plug than stick my tongue up your ass anyway.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jack grunted. “Left pocket, the big one.”

Gabriel obliged and retrieved a tube of lube from the pocket. He had some too in his pants with a few condoms just in case, but he’d rather let Jack think he was the prepped one. He took pride in it, former commander and all.

Gabriel put the tube down on the table and went back to his ass inspection, using both hands this time. He played a bit with the plug, pushing it a little, pulling it teasingly, never removing it completely. Jack made all sorts of moans and gasps but didn’t beg for mercy (still not that one). He endured and endured, sometimes taking deep breaths to calm down, and Gabriel knew he was using counter-torture techniques to relax. That was kind of fucked up, and Gabriel loved it. He couldn’t ignore his own cock much longer though, so he applied a generous amount of lube on his dick, the cold of it making it twitch, popped the plug out and pushed his cock inside Jack. He wasn’t met with much resistance, but with a “oh” that lasted as long as Jack’s delirious sigh. Gabriel moved a bit, trying a few tentative thrusts until Jack’s ass tightened enough to make it good.

“You okay?” Gabriel asked, checking the loose knot around Jack’s wrist.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Jack replied with a thumb up in his back.

Gabriel didn’t wait any longer. He grabbed Jack’s hips and thrust at his heart’s content. Jack tried to follow his rhythm as much as he could, tightening when Gabriel pulled, loosening when Gabriel pushed, and it worked wonders. Gabriel was on the edge again in no time, his head light and his cock heavy, warm, so warm.

He had to calm down a bit. He pictured Moira’s saggy boobs, her long, terrifying fingernails and fragile frame. She reminded him of his grandma. Yep, that would do.

Gabriel grabbed Jack’s neck with one hand, not tight enough to hurt, but just enough to remind him he was powerless, under his control, at his mercy (so not that other one). Jack moaned, his voice starting to get higher, the few words he was managing to get out blurted and incomprehensible. Good thing, Gabriel vaguely thought in the back of his head. And like all good things, they had to stop. He pulled out entirely with a grunt, getting an outraged groan from Jack, grabbed his partner by the shoulders and flipped him on the table like a pancake. It creaked dangerously under Jack’s weight but resisted. The position was uncomfortable for Jack though, as his arms were still stuck in his back, so Gabriel grabbed his tights and lifted him enough to get his ass at the proper level. He fumbled a bit to find the entrance again, and pushed as deep as he could in that position, aiming for the top.

“Fuck!” Jack yelped as his head rolled back.

Gabriel repeated the movement, Jack’s legs on his shoulders, pushing up and up again, each time rewarded by a new colorful swear word. Jack’s cock was all red and swollen, dripping on the stained tank top and his hair. His neck was tensed, his Adam’s apple well defined between the thick, rope-like muscles, sweat pearling and rolling out of view. Gabriel pushed and pushed again until Jack lost his words and just babbled his name, begging-but-not-begging him to finish it, to release the both of them. Gabriel adjusted his grip and pushed Jack’s leg against his chest, bending him, pulling his pants a bit more to give him room to spread his legs by a few inches. Gabriel put a knee on the squeaking table, not daring to put his full weight on the damn thing, and rammed up and and up again, focusing on the warmth, on the tightness around his cock, on the edge of that wave coming and pushing.

Jack came first, his body suddenly tensing all over, gripping Gabriel’s cock so hard that it pushed him over the edge, spilling his load into Jack’s ass, heat and pressure culminating for a wonderful second of absolute. He took a long, painful gulp of air, unaware he had held his breath until now, sweat rolling under his body armor, on his neck, along his arms, his legs shaking a little. Gabriel wanted to kiss Jack, his lips burning with need, but the position wouldn’t allow it. Jack’s head was still thrown back anyway, out of reach. His chest was rising fast, and that combined to his general redness and his jugular visibly throbbing made Gabriel check his heartbeat, a hand on Jack’s chest. It was erratic, but not heart-attack-erratic.

“You okay, old man?” Gabriel asked, petting Jack’s chest gently.

“Never better,” Jack managed to reply in between his heavy breath.

Gabriel pulled back and let go of Jack’s leg, grabbing him by the shoulders instead to make him sit. Jack put his feet back on the ground, legs shaking, and let his head rest on Gabriel’s shoulder, still breathing heavily. Gabriel untied him while kissing his neck gently, then caressed his back over the tank top wet with sweat. To his surprise, Jack passed his arms around Gabriel’s waist, leaning closer. He was probably too hot and worked up to notice his own body temperature, Gabriel thought. He usually avoided hugs like that, but Jack seemed to need it this time. Not that he had been rough. Playful, yes, but well within the limits of what Jack liked. Still, it was hugging time, even if that made him uncomfortable. Gabriel stayed in the embrace, caressing Jack’s back and sides, kissing him gently on the neck and his messy hair, giving him a few reassuring words now and then. It was sort of nice, Gabriel noticed. Uncomfortable because Jack could realize his heart didn’t beat right or his temperature wasn’t that of a typical human, but nice nonetheless, in a weird sort of way. The sort that involved feelings, he’d bet.

“Your dick’s still out,” Jack, the ever so romantic, noticed after a while.

“Yours too,” Gabriel replied.

“Don’t care.”

“Me neither.”

“Fuck, I’d suck it again if you’d used a condom.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes but didn’t reply. It was kind of pointless to remind Jack he was the one who didn’t like condoms and had insisted to get rid of them as soon as possible, in a pure Strike Commander Jack Fucking Morrison style.

Jack tightened his hug, forcing Gabriel to take half a step to not lose his balance.

“I fucking miss you, Gabe,” Jack whispered.

“I know Papito,” Gabriel replied gently, “I miss you too.” His heart, or what had been his heart once was heavy because he knew what was coming next.

“Join Overwatch.”

“Join Talon,” Gabriel answered back like always. He tried to joke, bitter: “Swear to God, the healthcare plan is way better than whatever that crazy ape can get out of his ass.”

That made Jack snort but he didn’t say anything. Working with Jack again would be nice. Fuck, it would be _awesome_. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not until he was done with his mission.

Jack’s heartbeat and breath eventually calmed down, enough for him to let go of Gabriel. They cleaned up quickly without a word nor a look, the habit reminding Gabriel all too well of their military years, dressed up again, and stood there for an awkward second.

“Next time?” Gabriel asked, fidgeting with his mask. He wanted to kiss Jack one last time before leaving, but that would be too much for one day, he presumed.

“Next time,” Jack agreed, rubbing his wrist, looking elsewhere.

Gabriel hesitated a second too much before putting his mask and hood back on.

“Good,” he said, his voice deformed, inhumane. He was about to vanish into the night when he turned back to Jack. “I’d get the hell outta here if I were you.”

Jack grunted, visibly unhappy, and flipped him off. Gabriel smiled under his mask, and disappeared into the shadows of Cairo.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.  
> I didn't write in a long, long time, so it'd mean the world to me if you took the time to leave a comment or some kudos.


End file.
